The Society
by sheyamiku
Summary: Forty years ago, He-Who-Must-Be-Named was defeated by Harry Potter and for years, the Wizarding World was a place of peace, tolerance and modernity. However, as time passes, darker and darker events are slowly destroying the prosperity that the world was set into and those who will put an end to this are not the heroes of last time.
1. Chapter 1: DUNCAN

**Hello people of the internet! **

**I'm editing this first chapter because the first time there was no author's note nor anything else really and that's just sad so… Here it is! Just wanted to explain some stuff there: first of all, I'm not a native English speaker so please don't be too tough about the grammar mistakes and stuff, I'm doing my best ^^. Also, it's my first time posting (and I can't help but notice how effing complicated this website is!) and I'm just sixteen so don't expect a great piece of literature; p. **

**Also, this story happens fifty years after the Battle of Hogwarts, there will be five POVs and the world is pretty much messed up a this point. I should probably add that a lot of this fanfiction is me trying to add stuff that I would have liked to be in the original series…**

**With that said, I'll try to post once a week (and probably won't 'cause life is hard) and don't hesitate to correct and give advice and stuff, stuff, stuff… **

**DISCLAIMER: the world is Jo's, I'm just a fan.**

**ENJOY!**

**_ Sheyamiku**

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><p>DUNCAN<p>

Part 1— The Minister for Magic

Journalists were jumping on their seat, raising their pens to the sky, shouting out questions in the hope that the Minister for Magic would turn back towards the crowd and give the answers they were all thriving to hear. Who were those terrorists? Were they linked in any ways to the vandals and delinquents in Hogsmead and Diagon Alley? Where the Aurors any closer to catching them? And why were their victims almost exclusively rich pure-blood families?

With a sigh, Duncan stood up from his seat and walked up to the microphone. 'The conference is over.' he said, as loud as he could so as to be heard clearly without having to shout. 'The Minister will answer no more questions. You are all dismissed.' Ignoring the roaring and shouting of the journalists, Duncan turned on his heels and hurried his pace to catch up with the Minister. He forcefully made his way between the Aurors and other collaborates and managed to find himself walking at only a few centimetres behind him.

The Minister Rufus Selwyn was a small man, with round features and a large and bushy moustache. He was rather young, but his chestnut hair was already streaked in grey and white. As he walked, he turned his head left and right as if to make sure no journalists had been following.

'Good Lord!' He exclaimed, raising his glasses on his nose. 'I sometimes regret the time when the Daily Prophet was the only newspaper around! It seems to me that these journalists grow bolder with their number! By the way, where is Mr. Weasley? I need a word with him about my next speech.'

'Mr. Weasley is currently on a diplomatic trip to Brazil, sir.' said a little woman at his right.

'Merlin's beard!' exclaimed Selwyn, suddenly coming to a halt and risking by such of having the entire crowd of men and women rushing after him to fall right on top of his little body. Luckily, Duncan had the reflexes to side step and thus protect the Minister from what could have been a dangerous and rather ridiculous incident. 'I thought he was leaving tomorrow! That is rather upsetting.' Stroking his moustache, he proceeded to walk. 'Who could it be, then...? Oh! Yes, of course! Where's Alvert? I need Alvert!'

Duncan's mind suddenly rushed to full mental attention as he tip-toed his way to the Minister's side. 'I'm right here, sir!' he said, raising his hand up in a vain attempt at looking more noticeable. 'Behind you, sir.'

The Minister looked convulsively from left to right, as if trying to catch a particularly quick fly with his eyes. 'For Merlin's sake, Alvert! Where... Oh, here you are!' a bright smile appeared on the Minister's face as he took Duncan protectively under his arm and lightly tapped his chest. 'I'd like to talk to you, Alvert. Let's go into my office, right now.' he said, his face still enlightened by happiness for some reason. Then, he turned to the rest of the cortege and frowned in a much more serious facial expression. 'The rest of you can proceed on your daily businesses.'

Everyone wordlessly went on to do their duty but one tall man with harsh features and jet-black hair carefully combed backwards. 'Minister. The Auror Office need your permission for...'

'I shall see to that on my next visit, Deschale.' Interrupted the Minister. 'Anyhow, why isn't Xavier, _the Head of the Auror Department_, not coming by himself to discuss of such important business?'

Deschale took a very sudden interest in his boots. Not daring to look the Minister in the eyes, he mumbled: 'He said he had some family obligations, sir.' The Minister said nothing but a very clear despising "humpf!" and after coldly thanking the Auror for his dedication, continued his fast-paced walk to his office.

When they finally reached the spot, Duncan could not help but, once more, contemplate the magnificence of the Minister's personal office. The room was huge and beautifully decorated. Paintings of great wizards were placed all over the walls and rich pieces of furniture arranged everywhere so that the place managed to look cosy and formal at the same time.

'Please, sit.' Said the Minister, indicating the seat facing his own desk.

Duncan took his time to do so. He has learned with the time that acting comfortable with Rufus Selwyn made Rufus Selwyn in a better mood. Once seated, Duncan raised his head and patiently waited for the Minister to talk.

'Son,' said the Minister at last. 'We are going through some rough times.'

Duncan was a little worried by the tiredness in the man's voice and the despair in his brown eyes. As much as he respected and admired Rufus Selwyn, Duncan started to wonder if the man would survive the pressure of the situation. He could only hope though, and support Mr. Selwyn as much as he could, so he simply said, 'We are, sir.' and waited.

The Minister looked up for a second and fixed his eyes on Duncan's. For a brief moment, the young man felt as if he was being evaluated, tested, as if Selwyn was trying to decide if he could be trusted or not. Finally, the Minister turned around and, facing the window, let his eyes wander aimlessly in the infinity of the horizon. 'I guess there's no need for me to give you a summary of the situation.' he said in a distant voice. 'But I cannot help but wonder if you understand it as fully as I do. Don't get me wrong,' he added hastily. 'I know you to be a very clever young man, Alvert, but I do understand that what is going on here is much greater than ever before, and I fear for the future of our world.'

Duncan was positively panicked now, although he made sure not to let it show. The Minister was talking in a way than the young man had never heard before. He looked distracted, concerned, scared... 'But surely this is nothing that the Ministry and the Auror Office cannot correct, sir!' he exclaimed in a desperate attempt at being supportive. Unfortunately, Selwyn seemed more annoyed by this statement than anything. Duncan felt his cheeks go red.

'Alvert,' he said a little too calmly. 'As much as I appreciate your enthusiasm and faith in the efficacy of our Ministry, I must say that you are talking like a blind fool. Don't you see what's going on? Vandalism! Riots! Attacks! And all of these are not just common expression of angers in the face of a government, Alvert, these are organized groups acting under the command of one group if not one person! I am not yet certain as to what they want, but I do know that they want something, and they want it bad!'

'But, sir,' said Duncan in fear and confusion. 'How is this possible? The vandals' messages seem directed against muggles and muggle-borns whilst the terrorists' attacks are clearly thrown against pure-blood families, or at least powerful ones.'

'This is where you are mistaken, Alvert.' said Selwyn with a tired smile. 'The majority of the terrorists' attacks had been aimed at great and powerful houses, mainly coming from the Slytherin House. Nonetheless, a few of them targeted very common people, like that merchant in Knocturn Alley or good old Professor Sinistra. Not to mention the café in Diagon Alley that caused four deaths! The Auror Department has found sufficient proofs that these attacks, very similar, were caused by the same group. Now, Alvert, why would one same group of terrorists attack both rich and commons alike? Tell me. What could be their reasons?'

Duncan tried to think. Rich houses, Knocturn Alley, Diagon Alley, Professor Sinistra... How did it all link together? The answer was not an easy one and the intense stare that the Minister was giving him did not help his thinking but he tried anyways.

First of all, rich houses usually came from the Slytherin House, which could link with Knocturn Alley, mainly appreciated from these families. It could also link to Professor Sinistra who was a Slytherin in her youth.

Secondly, Knocturn Alley was situated very near Diagon Alley; that was the only link he could make.

Thirdly, some rich families owned shops in Diagon Alley or Knocturn Alley, this could be of importance. Now, was the shop that was attacked owned by a rich family? And the merchant in Knocturn Alley? These were also important questions.

Duncan frowned his eyebrows so much he could see them on top of his vision. Someone was targeting different places and different people for the same reason whilst a different group with the same ideals was causing chaos in the streets. Why... What was the link? Duncan suddenly opened his eyes large and stared in the distance. Maybe it was simply chaos! Maybe all they wanted was to create a distraction!

As soon as he proposed his idea to the Minister, he felt pride rush all over him, but Selwyn was not quite as satisfied. 'This is also what the Aurors believe but none can be certain. There is something funny in this affair. Not to mention the fact that the same kind of events is happening all over Europe.'

'Indeed, sir.' said Duncan. 'I wanted to tell you, we have news from France.'

'Bad news, I imagine...' said the Minister with a sigh.

'Not really, sir. These are rather encouraging news. We now know the names of the leaders of the terrorists' movement there.

'Do we?' exclaimed the Minister, positively beaming with joy now. 'Who are they?'

'A brother and a sister, sir.' answered Duncan with pride. 'Arnaud and Amandine de Restois are their names. '

Selwyn frowned, thinking. 'They do not ring a bell… Do they have any judicial past?'

Duncan looked in his papers. 'Not that we know of, sir. They kind of came out of nowhere...'

'Or were pulled out of nowhere...' muttered Selwyn.

'Sir, what do you...?'

'Just a thought, nothing to worry about,' interrupted the Minister with a broad smile that could not hide his weariness. 'No matter where they come from anyway! We now know their names and this a great step towards victory! Alvert, you shall organise a meeting between me and the French Minister for Magic as soon as possible. On your way, please bring the lazy troll at the head of my auror departement to my office. Go now. I am a very busy man.'

Duncan hurried up and walked to the door, but just as he laid his hand on the doorknob, he stopped and turned back to the Minister for Magic. 'Sir,' he said. 'Weren't you going to tell me something?'

The Minister looked taken aback. His eyes went back to the young man at his door, opened wide as if he had never seen him before. 'Really?' he said in a mysterious tone.

Duncan felt more awkward than ever. The Minister was starting to worry him seriously. 'Err... I think so... I mean... You...'

Rufus Selwyn was not a man that could be considered scary in normal times, but at this moment, as his eyes were going up and down Duncan's body, evaluating him as if reading right through him, Duncan felt more than just uneasiness. 'You're right.' finally said Selwyn, a smile back on his face. 'I was going to ask you something.' he stopped for a second. Hesitating. 'But... It doesn't matter right now. I'll ask for you when the time is right. Hurry now. We don't have any more time to lose.

Confused and worried, Duncan left the Minister for Magic's office and took off to his own. One year ago, he had joined the ministry with the firm intention of contributing as best as he could to the fight against those who had been spreading chaos in the wizarding world for a few years now. Ever since Kingsley's death, Luna Lovegood's disappearance and Neville Longbottom's surprising incarceration, everything seemed to be going wrong in the wizarding world. Now, with Harry Potter's disappearance, it was even worse. The best wizards and previous Dumbledore's Army members all worked hard to find him and protect his family and friends, thus leaving Rufus Selwyn and his ministry face alone the growing difficulties and threats in the country and beyond.

Duncan knew that, even though no one was ready to admit it, the terrorist threat that had been terrorizing Britain for a few years already was as close to being stopped as the law for house elves' liberation was to be passed. There was something fishy about it… But Duncan Alvert could not pinpoint what exactly it was that bothered him.

'Careful Alvert.' Said the massive wizard with whom the young man had just collided.

'I'm sorry.' Responded Alvert without looking at the man for too long.

'Where are you going, running off like that?' asked another man just behind Duncan who jumped in surprise.

As he turned around to see who talked to him, Duncan's jaw just dropped. He had not expected to meet ex-head of the Auror Office like that, if at all.

The man was tall, and on his surprisingly young face (Duncan knew him to be forty though he looked about ten years younger), Duncan was startled by the brightness of his malicious grey eyes and wolfish grin. However, what really made the wizard stand out, besides his numerous tattoos and piercings, was his strong bright blue spiky hair.

'Mr. Lupin!' blurted Duncan without controlling himself. 'Merlin's beard.'

Teddy Lupin laughed. 'No need to look that surprised.' He said softly. 'Anyways, where are you going?'

'To my office, sir.' Responded Duncan, barely able to keep his voice from shaking.

'Well, change of plan.' Said Lupin. 'You're coming with me, Duncan Alvert.'

Duncan did not quite grab that, and so the only sound that came out of his mouth was: 'Oh.'

Lupin smiled and the young man couldn't help but notice how sharp his teeth were. 'Good. Follow me.'

Duncan did as he was bid, not really getting a grip on what was happening. It was only after many minutes that he remembered what he had to do. 'Sir,' he said, 'I have to contact the Head of the Office Department, by order of the minister. He wants to talk to him.'

Lupin did not even slow down his pace. 'That can be arranged.' He said, grabbing some random guy as he walked. 'You shall contact the Head of the Auror Department and send him to the Minister at once. Please.' The man looked at him somewhat doubtfully and so Lupin sighed and added: 'I am Teddy Lupin.'

The man's eyes quickly went from doubtful to a mix of panic and admiration and soon, he was rushing to the nearest chimney as if his life depended on it.

Duncan followed him with his eyes until he disappeared, slowly realising what was happening to him. Intrigued, he turned his focus back on Lupin. 'Where exactly are we heading?' he asked calmly.

Lupin smiled. 'Department of mysteries. We need a quiet place to talk.'

Duncan frowned. 'Talk about…?'

'You'll understand soon enough.'

Duncan didn't reply and silently followed his guide down the many levels of the Ministry of Magic. It was after a long walk that they finally found themselves in the darkest, lowest, most forgotten outskirts of the building. Duncan was positively scared by the time he found himself in the middle of a large circular room, surrounded by the most famous and powerful wizards Britain had known for the last fifty years, all staring at him with grim faces.

'Duncan.' Said Lupin behind him. 'The Order of the Phoenix has a secret mission for you.'

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><p><strong>Well, I do hope you enjoyed that first chapter! If you did, please say so, if you didn't, do what you want, really ^^<strong>

**Soooo, next chapter coming up, say goodbye to Duncan for the moment but don't worry, he'll be back ^^**


	2. Chapter 2: MEROPE

**Hello again, dear friends!**

**So here's chapter 2 and this time we're back at Hogwarts!**

**Be reassured, Hogwarts is not the only wizarding school we'll be visiting throughout this story but you'll have to be patient ^^**

**DISCLAIMER: Hogwarts and the Wizarding world is JK's as well as those characters that you recognize**

**ENJOY!**

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><p>September<p>

MEROPE'S ARC

part 1— _Armandeus Beaflet _

Three years had passed since Merope Woodstrong had received for the first time the letter that officially made her a student at Hogwarts' School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and yet, after all this time and a month wandering down the castles corridors, she still managed to fail noticing those bloody ghosts everywhere!

'Excuse me.' she patted, the feeling of cold and wet still creating goose bumps all over her skin. 'I didn't see you...'

'It's all right, girl.' said the ghost sympathetically, faking to pat her head. 'Just try and look where you're going next time.'

Obviously, he had meant it well, but Merope couldn't help to take these words as slightly insulting. After all, was it her fault if she seemed unable to notice every transparent form floating around the castle? Surely the ghosts could also _try _at least to be cautious! But who would dare blame a ghost. Merope believed it rather rude to insult somebody who was already dead, particularly so when the death had been rather gruesome, and this particular ghost seemed to unfortunately have had such an experience.

Merope shook her head so as to get rid of those deranging thoughts, and opened her book back to the page she had lost. Though most people she knew kept telling her that reading while walking was the reason why she couldn't manage ten meters without finding herself on the ground, she usually did not have the patience to wait until finding a nice sitting spot before opening a book. She had started "_Dobby the Free Elf" _by Luna Scamander two days ago. The book retraced the story of one of Harry Potter's dearest and most faithful friends, who had died protecting the Chosen One. It had quickly achieved top rankings, even from the Daily Prophet, and was rapidly set as a best-seller. What helped to increase the novel's popularity could have been that the writer, Luna Scamander once Lovegood, was herself a celebrity in her own way (she was a rather original lady) or the surprising participation of Draco Malfoy, once the owner of Dobby and a wizard with an unfortunate dark past.

Of course, for two years now, Luna Scamander and the rest of her family were nowhere to be found and neither the Ministry nor the Order of the Phoenix could find them, and Draco Malfoy was still unable to leave his highly secured manor for fear of being targeted by terrorists like so many times before. On the bright side of things, the book was truly formidable, and Scamander's light writing style made it all the most enjoyable to read.

As she was reading through a most thrilling passage of how Dobby suddenly apparated in Harry Potter's bedroom, a large brown form shadowed the pages of her book and just like that, she found herself on the ground, her hands empty and her bottom slightly aching. A deep snort made her raise her eyes and to her most utter astonishment and, she had to admit, fear, she found herself staring right in the eyes of Armandeus Beaflet.

Beaflet was Hogwarts' tall, dark, grumpy, angry, limping gamekeeper. His hobby was terrorizing students wherever teachers were nowhere to be seen, and everyone was forced to admit that he did so quiet well indeed. His appearance kind of favoured him anyway. Beaflet was tall enough to look down on everybody, and with his long thick hair, uncombed and jet black yet sprinkled in grey, falling on his eyes and over his bushy eyebrows, and his large black beard, only his murderous black eyes were really visible on his face. On top of that, he wore a long and old patched coat, with the collar raised so to hide his face even more. When he spoke, Merope could see his yellow, pointed teeth. For some reason, that made her shudder, maybe because she knew it meant that he was going to talk in his angry, despiteful rumbled voice.

'Watch where yer going, brat.' he grumbled.

'Sorry.' mumbled Merope.

'Well, stand up, now.' growled the gamekeeper. 'Yer' no' gonna stay o' yer butt all yer life, are yeh?' when she did not answer, he spat not so far from where her book had fallen and left with a snort, limping on his cane.

'And where were _you_ looking, huh?' she whispered angrily once she was certain he was too far to hear. _Today is definitely not my day_, she thought with a sigh.

Holding her book protectively under her arm this time, she hurried her pace towards the Hufflepuff's Common Room, eager to prevent any more encounters. Thankfully, the Common Room was only a few turns away and soon enough, she found herself standing in front of a large number of barrels. She took out her wand, tapped the code on the barrels and watched patiently as they all made space enough for her to pass. Down a small staircase she opened a wooden door and found herself inside the round, cosy, warm and lovely Hufflepuff's Common Room. Despite herself, she smiled, mentally thanking Helga Hufflepuff for her brilliance.

On a far corner of the Common Room, a little away from the noisy talks and laughs, was Merope's favourite spot; a mountain of large and soft pillows. The perfect place for sitting down with a cup of hot chocolate and talking with one's friends. And at Merope's upmost joy, her friends were indeed waving at her, calmly sitting down on the pillows, happiness written all over their face.

Smiling, she hurried to meet them and on the process nearly knocked down a poor first year passing by. 'I'm so sorry!' she exclaimed, holding him. She was starting to think she had been cursed when, as the boy walked along, he stumbled on her foot and lost his balance. 'Sorry...' she said again. She was not smiling anymore when she sat down next to her friends.

'Walking is so hard, guys...' she complained loudly.

'That was also my problem when I was younger,' said Michael. Though he was her age, Michael was taller than most fifth years and strong-looking too. He had dark brown hair, slightly long and very soft and big green eyes. Everyone loved Michael, his smile and his freckles; he was adorable and yet mature at the same time. 'Of course, I overcame the difficulty once I reached my... What was it? Third Birthday or something...'

'Shut up, Michael.' said Merope, bumping his arm in a vain attempt at looking upset. However, she was laughing heartily with everyone else. 'Seriously though,' she managed to say when the laughing grew less intense. 'I managed to bump into three people today in... What? Ten minutes? Fifteen at most.'

'I'm sure you've done worse before, honey...' said Nigel, nonchalantly swinging his head to remove a streak of long straight chestnut hair from his pointy mouse face.

'You always say that, Nigel,' answered Merope with a sigh, 'but we all know even _I _am not that bad.' As she turned to see the person to whom she was talking to, she was surprised to see him holding a very thin rectangular device in his hand with a coloured front that he could change simply by touching it. 'What is that?' she couldn't help but ask.

Nigel raised his eyes, feigning not understanding what she was talking about. Then, he looked down at the device on his hands and made a very unconvincing 'Oh...! That!' before moving the object right under Merope's nose. 'That, my dear,' he said, somewhat pompously, 'is a muggle invention. Of course, you pureblood may not have ever heard of it before because... Well, for whatever silly reason... But the muggles use it all the time! It's called a smartphone. It's basically an advanced version of the mobile phone. You know...' he insisted, 'the telephones you can take with you everywhere...' Nigel rolled his eyes and grumbled something about '_ignorant wizards_', '_shame_' and '_kidding me_...'.

'And what does it do?' asked Merope, ignoring her friend's grumbling.

'What does it _do_?_'_ exclaimed Nigel, not as outraged as he made it seem. 'This smartphone does everything! Calling, texting, listening to music, taking pictures, GPS, internet, remembering birthdays! For muggles, _this' _he said, insistently pointing at the device, 'is just _vital_.'

Merope gave Nigel the most perplex look she could manage. 'Nigel,' she said, 'it's useless.'

'Did you even _listen_ to anything I just said?' exclaimed a positively desperate Nigel.

'Yes,' said Merope coolly, 'and I don't know what "texting" and "GPS" are, I still don't see the point of using the "Internet"—I mean, the concept is still really vague to me; for what exactly do you use it?— and there are a hundreds way of communicating with other people from a distance—which I guessed is what you named "calling"— I can go to a concert whenever I want to listen to music and—what even was that part with taking pictures? This thing is tiny!'

'Oh my goodness, Merope!' exclaimed Nigel once more, rising his eyes to the sky in a desperate plea. '"Texting" is sending a written message instantly to the person of your choice as long as you have his or her phone number. A "GPS" is a device or an application that can indicate you any road anywhere to help you find your way wherever you are! As long as you have internet... Oh, and internet, you can literally use it for anything! If you're looking for information about something, anything, you'll find your answers there; if you're just looking for a way to pass your time, you'll find thousands of fun ways to do so on the internet; if all you want is interacting with people, checking on the latest news, looking for your next job, sending an e-mail—oh, wait, you probably don't know what that is... Whatever! It's all you need in just one click on your computer, mobile phone, tablet...

'What else was there? Oh, yes! Instant calling via your phone is a hundred times easier than sending owls or sticking your head in a fireplace! I mean, sometimes I can't help but think that wizards invented half of what they did whilst being utterly and completely _drunk_! Whatever, about listening to music. With a phone, you don't have to wait until your favourite band or singer holds a concert or shows up on the radio, you just do one click and _tada_! Your favourite song is playing! And finally—don't hesitate to tell me if I have neglected anything, of course— you wondered how it was possible for a small and tiny object to take pictures... Well, I don't really know how it does it, but it does it! And it works great! Those pictures look real...'

'Are they muggle pictures?' asked Amara, perplex. 'The ones that don't move?'

'Well, obviously...'said Nigel who looked like he was starting to feel rather annoyed by the lack of comprehension as to how outstanding such a device actually was.

'How can it look _realistic _if the people are not moving?' asked Michael, shoving his hands around to express better the silliness of the situation.

'Because of the _quality_ of the picture!' exclaimed Nigel, positively angry now. 'Open you blind pure-blood eyes for God's sake! Wizards are not even halfway as evolved as muggles!'

'Nigel,' said Merope coolly for the second time. 'It may look extraordinary to you and muggles because without magic, you have to do much more to achieve a simple result. Wizards don't. We have magic, Nigel. This is not useful to us.'

'Of course it is!' insisted Nigel. 'You guys refuse to see the obvious! This stupid racism that Wizards have against muggles is flowing through your veins and you have no idea that it is there and corrupting you! If you could just stop thinking of muggle like this inferior specie that will never be worthy of wizards then you might realize how much further they've come far compared to you! You might notice that more than half of what they have, you don't!'

Without realizing it, Nigel had actually caught the attention of half the Common Room and many students were now eyeing him like if he was a dangerous madman. Merope sighed. She didn't like drawing the attention to her, and though Nigel was the source of focus at this instant, she still couldn't help but feel uneasy.

'Whatever, Nigel.' she said in a low voice. 'Don't get mad next time.'

Nigel, his face red and his eyebrows furiously frowned, seemed on the verge of expressing some very strong argument, but after many failed attempts at actually producing any words from his repeatedly opening and closing mouth, he seemed to think it best to just not say anything. Angrily, the little boy raised on his feet, snatched his bag from under Michael and left the circle of third-years.

'Fine!', he snapped. Turning his heels, he took off, walking at the speed of light and left the room in the direction of the dorms.

Thomas Abergabby, a boy with very short blond hair, striking blue-grey eyes and a rather plump body rose in turn on his feet. 'I'm gonna make sure he's all right.' he said calmly before leaving gracefully, following Nigel's path.

'You think we've been too hard on him?' asked Michael, eyebrows raised as he watched Thomas go.

'I guess so,' said Amara, her head tucked in her shoulders in a look of utmost guilt. 'I didn't mean to hurt him though... I hope he doesn't hate us.'

Merope looked at the door to the dorms but her mind wandered beyond. A knot suddenly seemed to form in her throat as she tried to remember a time when Nigel had ever shown that much anger. As guilt slowly made its way to her insides, she realized that it had never happened before. Nigel had always been a happy, laughing boy, who easily made friends and never enemies.

'He was wrong anyways…' added Michael. 'I know what a mobile phone is. Everyone does.'

'I didn't.' mumbled Merope.

'Yeah, well…'

'Not that I care, though.' She added, a little more coldly than intended.

'You should.' Said Amara with her usual softness.

Merope shrugged and looked away. It seemed to her that everyone's obsession with muggle technology was completely irrelevant when the wizarding world had evolved so much. Of course Nigel did not agree. And he was not the only one. Merope had noticed how muggle-borns and half-bloods had started creating their own little communities in the castle. Now there was the duelling club, the chess club, the potion club and the Star Wars club (Star Wars apparently was a muggle movie, which sounded way less interesting than the wizard movies that had started coming out recently).

Anyways, Merope had started feeling somewhat out of place recently.

'Merope…' said Amara.

Merope turned to her perfect best friend with perfect hair and a perfect black skin and perfect big eyes, perfectly holding a perfect newspaper in her perfect hands. 'What?'

'Did you know the Minister for Magic had made a speech just yesterday?'

'Has he now?' she asked, perplexe. 'About what?'

'About rabbits and the best way to cook them — what do you think he would make a speech about!' the girl exclaimed. 'Whatever… He said they had captured one of the terrorists.'

'Really? That's great!'

'Yeah but he died.'

'Oh.'

'Also, they say they have made advancements about the current location of Harry Potter and everything seems to indicate that he's still alive.'

'Uhuh…'

'We also know Hermione Granger just left the research group and is probably coming back to London…'

'Well that's good news!', exclaimed Merope with so much irony that even Amara, who was quite used to it now, raised an eyebrow.

'I'm sure they're doing great.'

'Of course…' prompted Merope. 'When has the government ever failed us anyways?'

'You are _so_ pessimistic.'

'I know, thanks.'

'How do you live with yourself, Lu…'

'Girls…' suddenly shouted Michael who had been playing with his hair all this time. 'What are these Slytherin boys doing here?'

Merope and Amara turned their heads at the same time and at the same time they saw the three slytherins walking calmly into the Common Room as if they had done this all their life.

One of them stood out of the lot. He was tall, he was handsome and he seemed to radiate confidence though his slanted eyes showed only boredom. 'Where's Douglas?' he asked.

The boy named Douglas came out of behind a chair, shivering. 'Hi Andreus…' he managed to say.

'Come with me.' Said Andreus. And just like that, he left the room, his friends trailing behind him and Douglas, following with apparent dread written all over his face.

'What's happening?' whispered Amara. 'Why is no one doing anything?'

Michael growled. 'Didn't you see?' he said, his voice full of anger. 'Beaflet was waiting behind the door.'

Merope frowned. Hogwarts had often been called the safest place on earth and in recent years, the ministry had done everything to make sure it held up to that title, but with Beaflet in the castle, Merope was getting more and more anxious…

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><p><strong>Well, I hope you enjoyed! Because if you didn't….. I'll cry…. Lol<strong>

**Seriously though I don't think (aka I'm pretty confident) it's not by best work but there you go. **

**These first chapters will be a lot of building up mysteries and all so I hope you won't get bored with it though ^^**


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